Ace of Spades
by Shyrstyne
Summary: G1. Who says Transformers can't play cards?


I really was going to try and write something funny. I really was. Unfortunately, I'm not good at the funny stuff, so it ended up being another drabble instead... But because I was _trying_ to make it funny, it's ended up a little below par this time. Sorry. Inspired by The Starhorse's wonderful picture 'Five Card Stud' on Deviantart. I couldn't do it justice, and it makes me sad, but I'm putting it up anyways.

_**Ace of Spades**_

"You sure you don't want to join in, Hide?" Jazz asked cheerily.

"Positive." Ironhide grunted in response. He must not've been having a good day, Jazz assumed, for him to be so condescending.

So Jazz continued on.

Prowl had been easy. After the usual tactics of 'It'll be fun', and 'you need to get out more', Jazz had resorted to revealing that the game had a strategy element to it. Prowl went for it hook, line, and sinker. Simple really.

Ratchet hadn't been so easy to convince, but with some double-teaming from Wheeljack and Sideswipe, he had been cajoled into joining. Wheeljack was one of the first after Jazz and the twins to sign up for the enterprise. Sunstreaker, as far as Jazz knew, had not been able to recruit anybody. He wasn't surprised. Sunstreaker wasn't exactly the social butterfly his brother was.

Nevertheless, even if Jazz didn't manage to reel in any more participants, they still had enough players. He couldn't wait.

It had started, really, nearly two months ago by the human calendar. There was an abnormal lapse in Decepticon activity, and Jazz had been out in a nearby human city, not really doing much of anything..

o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o

He observed quietly, sitting in his alt mode. It was a balmy day, middle of summer, with absolutely no cloud cover. No wind either, which was part of the reason the humans were playing cards outside, instead of inside.

Three of the five humans were at least partially drunk, one was more then a little tipsy, and the last not at all. The game, he learned, was called poker. As they played, he slowly began to grasp the rules and strategy of the game.

Five players, five cards, certain sets of cards beat other cards. One held, met the bet, upped the bet, or folded. The men bet with little plastic chips, and Jazz was reminded of their energon chip equivalent.

All in all, he thought the game looked like fun.

When it came up in a casual conversation with Sideswipe and two other bots later, Sideswipe elected to set up a game of there own. "If nothing else," he had said, "It'll give us something to do."

So the first order of business was to get cards and betting chips. Jazz had given Wheeljack something to work on by asking him to procure some energon chips, and Sideswipe had taken care of the playing cards.

Though where Sideswipe got the poster-sized playing cards was anyone's guess.

o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/

All things considered, it was a fairly even match. The six Transformers were gathered at a table in the Ark's rec. room, slowly compounding an audience of mildly interested mech's. Playing right now was Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Wheeljack, and Ratchet. Sideswipe was sitting out. Mirage had come by, sniffed at them a little, muttered something about low-life gambling games and left. Even Prime had stopped by for a few nanosec's before having to leave for some appointment or other. Other mech's had come and went, but currently Smokescreen was standing off to one side trying to explain the rules to Bluestreak, who hadn't the faintest clue what was going on.

Wheeljack tapped his fingers on the table pensively (a sure sign he had a bad hand), and shook his head.

"Fold." He said, and looked over at Ratchet, who was to go next.

"Wait, what'd he do? Why'd he do that? What's-" Bluestreak started to speak. Smokescreen sighed a little and tried to explain it all to Blue. Again.

Jazz wasn't entirely surprised that Smokescreen knew the game so well. He always did have a bit of a gambling streak (though he had turned down the offer to play with them).

Turning his attention back to Ratchet, Jazz watched the medic carefully gauge each mech at the table. Ratchet was a careful mech, and often underestimated. Truth be told, not even Jazz had suspected that the duo of Ratchet and Wheeljack would hang on this long. Yet here they still were, and doing quite well all things considered, a small stack of energon chips piled next to their elbows.

Ratchet must have met the bet, because the turn passed to Jazz. He grinned jauntily at his opponents and cohorts. Each of them had a strategy and he had it more or less figured out now (not that it was particularly difficult). Prowl was the most difficult. He had what most humans would call 'the perfect poker face'. Nothing was betrayed or revealed, and he carried out his moves with a calm, cool proficiency. Prowl's only fault was that he had played by the rules, was playing only by the rules, and was going to play by the rules come hell or high fire (to use a human expression).

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were a team. Officially, Sunstreaker was the only one actually playing, but that didn't matter much. Jazz was pretty sure Sideswipe was cheating for him.. And possibly Wheeljack and Ratchet. Jazz suspected there was some betting going on outside the game as well.

Ah, well. It was all in the name of fun and boredom avoidance.

Wheeljack hunched over a little, conspiring with Ratchet quietly.

Ratchet and Wheeljack were more or less teaming up on the rest of them. They seemed to have realized that they were the underdogs in this particular scenario, and had made sure they at least stood a chance; stacking every odd they could manage in their favour.

Jazz looked down at his cards.

Two red aces, two jacks and a 2.

Jazz grinned as he slipped that all-important third ace in for the two. They weren't the only one's with the proverbial ace up there sleeve, and he made sure to close that small compartment he had in his wrist.

He shoved another handful of energon chips into the center of the table.

"Let's up the ante a little."

o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/

"So, who won?" Jazz looked over at Hound, who he was on patrol with. He'd never really begged Hound to take an interest in gambling, but he supposed you couldn't judge a bot by his colour.

"Why d'you ask?" Jazz replied good-naturedly. Hound shrugged.

"There was quite a commotion over that game, and some of the others want to know as well." Jazz chuckled.

"Nice t'know we made such a hubbub." He said. They stayed in silence for several minutes.

"So are you going to tell me, or do I have to find one of the others?" Jazz winced a little, and Hound assumed that it had probably not been Jazz to win the impressively large stack of energon chips when the night was finally over.

"Yah wouldn't believe me if I told you."

o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/

"How 'bout a forty-sixty split?"

"Only if the sixty is mine."

"But I _won_. Can't you let me gloat at least a little bit?"

"The deal was fifty-fifty, Jack."

"… Fiftyfive-fortyfive?" A hopeful note was heard.

"…" Insert withering glare here.

"Oh, fine. Fifty-fifty. You're such a poor sport Ratchet."

"Never said I wasn't."


End file.
